


A Sacrament Best Taken Kneeling

by ladyofrosefire



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Character Study, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Kneeling, M/M, Multi, Vax is a lovesick darling, it's barely there, really vague oral sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-10
Updated: 2018-01-10
Packaged: 2019-03-02 23:20:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,867
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13328553
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ladyofrosefire/pseuds/ladyofrosefire
Summary: A series of vignettes of Vax on his knees for the people he lovesTechnically in the same 'verse as "Apotheosis", but you don't need to read that to understand this fic.Quote from Oscar Wilde





	A Sacrament Best Taken Kneeling

After he tells Gilmore everything-- about the horn, about how many times they nearly died, Gilmore takes his face between his hands and kisses him. He has elegant hands, barely callused and unscarred. Vax turns his head to press a kiss to one palm.

“My darling boy…” Gilmore murmurs. He runs his fingers through Vax’s hair. “I wish you’d told me sooner.”

“Well…”

“I know. It’s hard to talk about.” Gilmore’s lips cover his, soft and warm. His beard scratches as Vax’s skin. “Thank you for trusting me with it.”

Vax kisses him again. He’s always been much better at action than words, and they’ve been moving toward this, half run and half dance, almost since they met. He’s been scared, and hunted, and he almost lost his fucking foot in those caves. So he presses in close, wraps his arms around Gilmore, and kisses him until they’re both breathless. He gets a pleased chuckle and a groan at the slip of his tongue. Then he slides from the seat they share and onto his knees before Gilmore.

“My dear, I’m very flattered--”

“Gil. Shaun. I’m not offering because I feel like I have to or that I should.”

His hand smooths up Gilmore’s thigh, rumpling the rich, purple robe. The fabric is thick and soft and finer than anything Vax has worn in his whole life. Gilmore wears it like Vax wears his boots, or his favorite shirt. Like he might wear pajamas if he bothered with them while they were at home. And shit, maybe he should be intimated. He doesn’t understand magic, or this kind of security. The shop, this city, a home beyond his sister, money. He has at least most of those things, now. He has the look in Gilmore’s eyes as he nods and shifts to face him fully. He has that slow smile, heady as honey wine. It’s an embarrassment of riches.

Vax keeps his face tipped up, his eyes on Gilmore, as he unfastens the ties and toggles of his robe. He doesn’t have to look down, either, as he pulls open the laces at the front of his loose, silk pants. He does pause, first, to rub his cheek against the fine fabric, his eyes falling closed. And maybe it’s a little calculated when he looks up through his lashes, but it’s worth it for the intake of breath and the curl of capable hands in his hair.

“Shaun…” He murmurs, and then takes him into his mouth.

He’s good at this. He’s practiced in back alleys and rooms in fine inns. On his knees in the back of a magic shop is a new one, though. Vax gives himself over to it-- the tug at his hair, the weight on his tongue, the scent of Gilmore’s skin. It’s sweat and musk and something Vax can’t place. He forgets about the rest of the shop, about the rest of the world. There’s no rush, no thought, no need beyond this moment.

Vax swallows when he’s done and wipes the back of his hand across his mouth. Then he rests his cheek against Shaun’s thigh again.

“Did you…?”

Vax hums a question, but does not lift his head.

“Did you want me to, ah, return the favor, so to speak?”

His mouth quirks.

“What’s so funny?”

“…I don’t think I’ve ever heard you unsure before.”

“Well,” Shaun laughs and begins to slowly stroke Vax’s hair, “You rendered me speechless, my Vax’ildan. You should be very proud.”

“I am.” He settles into a more comfortable position and tips his head into Shaun’s hand.

“Tell me if you change your mind.”

“I will.”

~~~

Keyleth is shaking when they get back to the little house the Water Ashari had offered them for the night.

“Key…” He reaches out to her and draws her into his arms.

Immediately, she clings to him. Her fingers dig into the back of his neck almost hard enough to bruise.

“Kiki. Keyleth. I’m right here with you. I’m alright.”

“I know.” She kisses his cheek, his jaw, his neck. “I know. I-- let me see you. I have to-- please? I just need to see.”

“Okay. Yeah, hold on-- fuck. Gimme a hand with the armor?”

It probably takes longer than it might have without her shaking hands, but neither of them say anything. The armor falls away piece by piece-- the chest piece, pauldrons, bracers, boots. Everything else. He leaves it scattered on the floor. She’s more important. The Queen is waiting, but she can wait a little longer. And until she does call, he will say here. It’s all fine until Keyleth pulls his shirt over his head.

“What’s this?” She touches his chest. “...She marked you.”

“It’s alright. It doesn’t hurt.”

"That doesn't mean I have to like it."

Keyleth drops onto the edge of the bed. Vax takes her hands in his and sinks to his knees in front of her. He shifts, tilts his head, trying to catch a good look at her face. Her hair flops around it, but he can still see the quiver of her lower lip, the way her eyes glisten. Her nails bite into his hands, but he ignores it. He feels stronger-- not physically, but… sturdier in a way he cannot really explain. He doesn’t say anything. Keyleth does not need to hear him defending his Queen. So he holds her hands, and he stays with her. Eventually, she starts to cry. He keeps hold of her hands, kisses the backs of them. Eventually, she folds forward over him. Vax rests his head on her knees. Her tears wet his hair. He releases one of her hands so he can wrap his arm tight around her waist. She presses her hand to the burn scar on his back.

And, eventually, she stops crying. It’s different, he knows, than the sorrow being done. He had died, her mother had died, and she’d been trying to cope with that all damn day. But she stops crying. She sighs and she kisses his hair and straightens up. Vax leaves his head where it is. Softly, Keyleth giggles, stroking his hair the way one might stroke a cat.

“Are you gonna stay there?”

“Maybe.” He looks up at her, a smile tugging at one corner of his mouth. “For a bit. I’m just gonna stay close to you. That okay?”

“Mhm.” Her fingers trace the lines of her handprint between his shoulder blades.

“You marked me, too.”

“I did.”

Keyleth brushes his hair to one side so she can see the mark she had left. Her fingers are warm, callused, familiar. Vax sighs. He melts into her, nuzzling against her thigh. She rewards him with a soft intake of breath. Slowly, she shifts back up the bed. Her fingers twist into his hair. He follows, laughing, and tumbles Keyleth into the sheets. They toss her dress to the ground, strip away her leggings, his pants. It’s slow, lingering, chasing away the last vestiges of cold from those endless depths. After, they lay loosely tangled in each other’s arms. They leave the sheets at their hips until Doty comes by the window.

“…What the shit?” Keyleth mutters, disappearing under them entirely.

Vax yawns and wraps an arm around her shoulder. “We’ll find out eventually.” He bends to kiss the top of her head.

Keyleth mutters something into his shoulder. Then she curls into him, hand coming to rest over the new mark on his chest. He covers her hand with his. They are still like that when the sun rises the next morning.

~~~

He’s raw and new in his power, limbs shaky, skin, hair, and feathers slick with something that is not exactly blood. When she offers him her arms, he falls into them. She is blessedly cool against his scalded skin. He curls into her, wings sweeping around them. Long, elegant fingers slip through the feathers. He shivers. The kisses she bestows-- on his lips, cheeks, and eyelids-- feel familiar. Memory sparks as her lips brush his throat. His name, his history, her, their bargain. It all feels distant, and not quite his. Not quite real. He clings to her. Slowly, a hand moves up and down his back. The shaking fades, and strength, real strength, returns to his limbs. There is a thrum and a rawness to his skin that makes him thankful there is no wind. Eventually, Vax’ildan relaxes, his head coming to rest on the Raven Queen’s shoulder.

“My beautiful champion…” She murmurs, her lips brushing his ear.

“My Queen.”

She holds him a while longer before tipping him gently onto the ground. Obediently, he stretches out beneath her guiding hands. When he looks down, he sees the spread of her mark across his chest, dark wings echoing the lines of his collar bones, dark as a bruise. There are red lines through it, now. The sound he makes echoes faintly in the space around them. Her laugh echoes it. Then her lips brush the mark, just over where his heart used to beat. Her hands frame his ribs. Her hair brushes his side.

“Will you stay with me, my champion?” She reaches up and takes his jaw in her hand. “Will you keep me company here?”

Her touch is gentle, but he feels it like a brand.

“I will. I’m yours.”

And then her mask falls away.

It always takes the breath from his lungs, even when he’s dead, apparently. She is beautiful and cold, her mouth a scarlet bow. Her eyes are not quite so lonely. Vax leans up and kisses her. Her mouth is warm. Her hair feels like silk beneath his fingers. For a while, she indulges him, strokes her hands over his newly-remade skin. She makes him shake in her arms again, her pale thighs squeezed tight at his hips. This time, he knows he can hear her.

“My lovely thing.” She calls him, and smooths his hair.

He would be panting, if he still had to breathe. All he can do is kiss her fingertips as they ghost over his lips. Then she bends and kisses the mark on his chest again.

“Come with me, Vax’ildan. You should not wander until you have settled.”

She rises, and the room shifts around her. There is a throne of something like black glass, or maybe like a web of golden wires, or like a red waterfall. She settles into it, comfortable and poised. He feels his chest ache.

Vax does not make her so much as beckon before he goes to her on a single beat of his wings. They fold neatly behind him as he settles at her feet. He lowers his head onto her lap, closes his eyes, and brings a hand up to curl around the back of her calf. Again, her fingers begin to comb steadily through his hair.

It hurts when he finally remembers and feels that past is his, but he has her hands to steady him. She touches his shoulder, and then takes his face in her hands. Softly, she kisses his forehead.

“There, my Vax’ildan. It’s time for you to learn what you can do.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to Impossibletruths/Teammompike for inspiration and damoselmaledisant for beta-reading!


End file.
